“He has family now.”

  “I’m not sure how much he knows about that yet, Cat.” Heidi gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. “Or whether now is the time to tell him.”

  “He needs to be told, Heidi,” Cathal said firmly. “Christian will want to spend some time with Mikey, and Edward needs to know why.” He had no intention of doing anything behind the man’s back. Edward was Mikey’s father and as such had a right to the truth, however unbelievable it might sound.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you, just warning you that now is not a good time.” Her face clouded over, and she shook her head. Concern, worry, and fear flowed over her before vanishing to be replaced by a nonchalant air that did not ring true.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m fine, Cathal.” She turned away from him.

  “If not you, is it Edward or Mikey?” Christian had only just found Mikey. Please no. He couldn’t lose the boy already. He’d lost so much, and now both of them were cut off from the rest of their family. One of Cathal’s fists clenched for a moment. He forced himself to unfurl it and remain calm. Surely they couldn’t have got this far only to have it taken away again?

  “It’s not my place to tell you that. Edward will do that himself when and if he wants to.” Heidi’s lips pursed. This was not a subject on which to argue. “You’re not to tell him you suspect he’s hiding something either.”

  “I won’t say anything,” Cathal promised. He knew what it was like to keep secrets that could not be told. “At least about this.” Keeping quiet about who he was would not be as easy. Libby had not spoken of her husband much, but had said he was a good man, loving and gentle, and looking forward to the birth of their child.

  The houses began to stand closer together. The thatched roofs were as Cathal remembered, but not the tall poles that reached for the sky at intervals. Wires were strung between them, giving the appearance of a continuous, very high line on which to hang wet washing. Had they been there before? He searched his memory, uncertain now as to the answer. Perhaps they had and he’d merely not noticed. The last time he’d travelled this way was on horseback, and he’d had other things on his mind so hadn’t the luxury of focusing to this degree on his surroundings. Looking skyward was not something one tended to do while riding either, unless worried about the weather.

  The car slowed. Heidi glanced this way and that at the road that crisscrossed the one on which they were travelling. “You’re still okay?”

  It took a moment for Cathal to realize to what she was referring. “I’m fine.” With all the distractions, he’d missed the fact that they’d passed the original boundaries of Alice’s property some time ago. “I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. He was fine. He really was. He could breathe. There was no pain.

  This was real. He was finally free.

  Behind them were green fields stretching for leagues, ahead a village he hadn’t seen in years. The inn, and the tree which had bound him for all this time, were too far away to be seen. He could go anywhere, be with Tomas in his world and support him in every sense of the word.

  A grin crossed his lips, a bubble of not quite laughter welling up inside. There was so much he hadn’t seen, places he’d only read about and never thought he’d be able to visit. He and Tomas could explore them and plan a future that finally had a chance of coming to pass.

  They had a lifetime together. Not just a snatched glimpse of what they both wanted, but a lifetime. A tear brushed against his cheek. He caught it with one finger, looking at it, remembering a grass circle that Tomas had made when they’d talked about reality and illusion. He’d picked a daisy and placed it in the middle of the circle. It had represented the dragon on the cover of Wynne’s book, surrounded by an unbroken circle of shadows, an eternity that couldn’t be changed. Removing one blade of grass was all it had taken to break the circle. A gust of wind had then carried off the grass, leading it into a future that before had not been possible.

  Was this their gust of wind? Or merely the lull before yet another storm?

  The seat belt tightened against him without warning, pinning him to his seat. He pulled at it instinctively, its grip reminding him of bonds of another kind.

  “Bloody stupid….” Heidi muttered under her breath. She wound down the window. “You’re supposed to look before you cross the damn road!”

  Cathal relaxed. Her seat belt was taut across her too, but she ignored it. This was what was meant to happen if they stopped suddenly. Or at least it appeared to be.

  “Good morning to you too, Miss Johnson.” The old man tipped his hat politely but briefly, the black and white collie whining and pulling at its lead. He walked closer to the driver’s side of the Land Rover, his eyes widening when he saw Cathal in the passenger seat. “So, the rumors are true, I see.” He grinned, revealing gray stained teeth, and leaned more heavily on his stick.

  “What rumors?” Heidi’s anger softened into curiosity. “And we’ve had this conversation before, Eoin. You and Kip are going to get yourself killed one of these days.”

  Eoin shrugged. “People always stop. It’s the way around here, even if certain people speed more than they should.”

  “What rumors?” Heidi ignored the jibe concerning her driving.

  Instead of answering her question, Eoin nodded toward Cathal. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young man. My sister told me you’d be out this way sooner rather than later.”

  “Do I know you, Mr.…?”

  “Folks around here call me Eoin.” He looked at Cathal for a long moment before continuing. “We’ll be seeing you in the pub later in the week, I’ll be thinking. I’ll tell Patricia to expect you.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Cathal started to protest, then wondered why. It seemed like the decision had been made for him, and his own curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. “I look forward to meeting her.” He rolled down his own window when Eoin walked over to the other side of the vehicle, and held out his hand. “Cathal Emerys, but then I suspect you already know that.”

  Eoin’s eyes twinkled. “I suspect I do indeed.” He shook Cathal’s hand. His grip was sure and strong, not what Cathal was expecting, considering the cane. “Be sure to bring that man of yours with you. Kip would enjoy meeting him again.”

  “He’d enjoy scrounging more food from him, you mean,” Heidi interjected. “That dog of yours is going to get fat, Eoin.”

  “He’s already too fat and too well-fed, according to my beloved sister.” Eoin snorted. Kip barked, panting, his tongue hanging out, apparently already anticipating forthcoming treats. Eoin rolled his eyes and scratched between the dog’s ears. “Always been dogs in my family for as long as I can remember.” Kip sniffed around Eoin, pulling at his lead. “Time to go, places to be. C’mon, boy.”

  “Talk to you later, Eoin.” Heidi began to wind up the window; the temperature inside had already dropped despite the heater still blaring. “Watch before you cross the road in future, hmm?”

  “Of course.” Eoin tipped his hat again, more slowly this time so that it revealed a thatch of thick snow white hair. “Just mind you do something about your own habits.” He moved out of reach of either of them before continuing. “I’ve heard that it’s not a good idea to stop in the middle of the road like this to chat, you know. It’s supposed to be just as dangerous as speeding.”

  Chapter 15

  “I HAVE to be who and what I am.” Tomas repeated the words he’d just written and sighed, one finger poised on the delete button. Damn stubborn characters. He wasn’t sure which of the two men―Deimos or Mark―was the worse offender. Taking another gulp of coffee, he sat back in his chair, staring at the screen.

  Cathal had insisted he would be fine. It was only a trip into the village with Heidi. Tomas scowled. Cathal was a little too good at ignoring his limitations. If Tomas had any doubts about that, the last couple of days had only served to remind him. “You’re not going to behave any better, are you?” he asked the words in front of him. After he’d originally shared his manuscript with Cathal, the character of the muse, Deimos, had taken the appearance of Cathal in Tomas’s mind. Considering Deimos’s latest argument with Mark, it was really not surprising. However, Cathal wasn’t Deimos anymore than Tomas was Mark.

  They were characters in a book he was writing, nothing more, despite the laughter of his own muse at the suggestion. Stupid thing. What did it know anyway?

  He looked up at the knock at the door. “Come in,” he called out absently. It was too early for Cathal to return, and he wouldn’t knock. Donovan and Ethan had disappeared into Donovan’s workshop, and it was doubtful they’d be making an appearance anytime soon, especially with the large “do not disturb” sign Donovan had made a point of hanging. Yeah, like that made any difference to anyone around here.

  To Tomas’s surprise, Christian poked his head around the door. “I was looking for Cat,” he said cautiously, glancing around the room. He seemed hesitant, which was something Tomas never thought he’d see in the man.

  Tomas peered at Christian more closely, not bothering to hide the fact he was doing so. Christian tended to be very up front, almost brusque, so Tomas didn’t see any reason to be any different. Christian didn’t comment, but just stood there as though waiting for an invitation to enter the room. There was definitely something not right with him. His eyes were red, and there was a slight tremble in one of his hands. He looked like hell.

  “He’s not here.” Tomas kept his tone soft, not wanting to upset Christian any further. Whatever their differences and however much he wasn’t enthralled by the idea, Christian was Cathal’s cousin, and therefore family. He’d also promised Cathal he’d try and make an effort to get on with the guy. At least this way if something happened, it wouldn’t be his fault.

  “Oh.” Christian turned to leave and stumbled, righting himself by hanging onto the edge of the dresser.

  “You’d better sit down.” Tomas held out his hand in an offer of support, which was ignored, and walked over to the couch by the window, hoping Christian would follow. “Cat wouldn’t be impressed if I let you leave like this.” He had a sudden vision of Cathal coming home to find Christian in a sprawled heap at the bottom of the stairs. “The aftereffects of the enchantment are a bit of a bitch, huh?”

  “Yes, like the fucking bitch whose idea it was.” The comment brought with it a flash of the Christian Tomas knew.

  “Yeah, her.” That, at least, was one topic on which he and Christian were in full agreement. Cathal had insisted there was no proof the specifics of Christian’s part of their punishment had been Deryn’s idea, but Tomas believed it was. He suspected deep down Cathal did too.

  “How is Cat doing?” Christian put a hand on Tomas’s arm. There was an intensity in his gaze, a real concern. “Really? I know full well how good he is at pretending he’s fine even when he’s not.”

  “He’s tired, more so than he’s letting on, but being stubborn about it. He’s also not as steady on his feet as he’s making out either.” Heidi would keep a sharp eye on him while they were out, and she wasn’t above giving Cathal a lecture on it either. Tomas would not have let Cathal go otherwise. He snorted. Who was he kidding? Cathal did what he wanted and tended to think through the consequences to himself later, if at all.

  “I suspected as much.” Christian leaned back into the couch, looking out at the fallen oak. “My cousin is not about to change, Tomas. He’s got worse about taking care of himself over the years, rather than better.” His voice softened. “It is my hope that now that he has someone who truly cares for him it will encourage him to do otherwise.”

  Tomas blinked. Were they having a serious, proper conversation? “I’m going to do what I can to make sure he does look after himself properly. If he won’t, I will.”

  “Good luck with that. You’re going to need it.” Christian continued to stare out the window. “Just because my feelings for Cat are not romantic as yours are does not mean that I love him any less.”

  “I never said or implied you didn’t,” Tomas protested, more than a little testily. What the hell was up with this guy? “You grew up together, you’re family. I get that.” He might not like it, but he got it. How did that saying go again? You could choose your friends but not your family.

  Christian shrugged. “Whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Cat gave me a letter from my wife. He said there were more of them. I… want them.” He trailed off into a whisper, his fingers tightening on the side of the couch. “Please.”

  “I’m not about to keep them from you,” Tomas reassured him. “They’re addressed to you, so they’re yours.” He got up and walked over to his desk, opening the bottom drawer. Once they’d returned, Heidi had given Cathal the letters for safekeeping until they could be given to Christian. “I read them.”

  “I know.” Christian shrugged again, his earlier show of emotion having flattened into a bland expression.

  “Sorry.” Tomas pulled the bundle of letters out. They were in order, with the original pink ribbon tied about them. Both it and the letters showed their age. “The mice got into a few of them, but you’ll probably be able to guess those bits.”

  “Probably.” Christian held his hand out for them.

  “Look, I’m sorry about everything that happened to you.” The short responses to his attempts to show some sympathy were wearing thin.

  “Of course you are.” Christian took the letters, clutching them close to him. He bit his lip, his eyes losing focus.

  “There’s no ‘of course’ about it.” Tomas knew that he shouldn’t push this, but Christian wasn’t exactly helping himself. “I know how I’d feel if I lost Cat the way you lost Alice.” It had come too close to that. He shivered at the thought.

  “Yes, but you didn’t, did you?” Christian didn’t bother to look up. “If there’s a point to this, Tomas, just get to it, will you? I’m not in the mood for much else.”

  “I’m making an effort, okay?” It took an effort not to snap the words. Tomas wondered, not for the first time, why Cathal was so close to his cousin. He was nothing like the so-called hero of the book his son had written.

  “Whatever.” Christian closed his eyes. Was he planning to sit on the couch for the rest of the day?

  Tomas hesitated, unsure as to what to say and do next. He wished Cathal was here. Christian was in pain; that much was obvious. Today wasn’t the time to try and smooth things over with him. Trying to do so had been a big mistake. “Do you want me to leave?”

  The door suddenly slammed shut. The vase of flowers that Heidi had left on the dresser flew across the room to smash against the far wall. What the fuck? Stuff like this didn’t just happen without reason. Although Cathal had mentioned Christian’s ability was telekinesis, seeing it in action and apparently out of control was not the proper introduction to it Tomas had expected or wanted.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Tomas said cautiously. Christian was a friend, he reminded himself. He was family. Even so, it wouldn’t do to piss him off, not while he was in this kind of mood. Just how strong was his ability? Tomas swallowed, wishing he hadn’t done all of that research about psi powers and their potential as a weapon.

  “Good to see that you do take some hints, then.”

  “Or maybe you’re more convincing in human form.” The words were out of his mouth before Tomas had time to think. He glanced around, wondering how much of a chance he had to make it to the door in time, or if the door would open. This was crazy. Christian wouldn’t hurt him.

  Would he?

  Christian froze, the letters dropping to fall into his lap. His lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking up at Tomas. To Tomas’s horror a tear ran down Christian’s face. God, he didn’t know how to deal with this. How could he have thought Christian meant him harm? He was hurting so badly, his reaction a kneejerk to that. “If Cat knew I’d scared you like this, he’d kill me. I… I don’t lose control like this. I haven’t since….”

  For that moment, Tomas didn’t see Christian there, but Cathal, the similarity of their features impossible to ignore. Without thinking he sat down next to Christian and pulled the man into his arms. “You’re allowed to grieve,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to say the words “it’s okay,” as it wasn’t. It never would be.

  “I’ve lost her.” Christian allowed himself to be held. Tears ran down his face. “I promised her so much, and I couldn’t keep any of it.”

  “I….” Tomas started to say that he knew, that he understood, but didn’t think those words would be appreciated. Alice had waited for Christian to return. She’d said as much in her letters. Reading them was only going to hurt Christian more. “You loved her. She knew that.” That too was very apparent in what she’d written.

  “I did… I do.” Christian pulled away. He didn’t wipe his eyes but sat there unmoving. “This is so unfair. I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did Alice. All we wanted was to be left in peace, but they couldn’t even give us that.”

  The portal was closed, whatever chance there was of revenge or putting things right so it wouldn’t happen again gone with it.

  “You still have family, Christian. She’ll be remembered.” If Cathal had gone, Tomas knew the words wouldn’t have helped him. Yet he felt as though he had to say something. “Spend time with Wynne and Mikey. Tell them about her, about what you had together.”

  Christian snorted. “That sounds like something Cathal would say.” He stood. “I should go. He’ll be back soon, and I’m not about to make an idiot of myself like this in front of him.”

  “He wouldn’t mind.”

  “I know. That’s why I won’t.” Christian managed a shaky smile. “They say that time’s a great healer. That’s bullshit. I doubt even a lifetime is going to be enough for this.”